


The Fifth Night of Hannukah

by Mimozka



Series: Arrow Season 4 Stories [10]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 4x10 speculation, Angst, F/M, Family, Hannukah, post 4x09, spoilers for the midseason finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimozka/pseuds/Mimozka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4x10 speculation fic. The fifth night of Hanukkah is not one either Donna or Oliver want to celebrate. But perhaps the light can help fight the darkness away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fifth Night of Hannukah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anythingbutplatonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/gifts).



                                                                                                    

* * *

 

Their fifth night of Hannukah is nothing like the rest of them. For one, they are not home. They don’t have a Hannukiah. They don’t have candles. In fact, on the fifth night of Hannukah, Hannukah is the furthest thing from their minds.

Donna and Oliver spend the night in the emergency room on uncomfortable plastic chairs, with their hands intertwined for support that they both very much need, because their most beloved person - their Felicity - is fighting for her life in an operating room down the corridor and it’s been ages since they’ve had an update.

The rest of their friends and family come and go as the night goes on, but neither Oliver nor Donna have the presence of mind to pay them any attention.

Donna is no longer hysterical. Instead she’d slipped in a numb, silent, and downright catatonic state of being similar to Oliver’s. The only thing teethering her to the present being the grasp of Oliver’s fingers on hers. Her head is slumped on his shoulder and his rests on top of hers. He’s still wearing the same clothes he did when they left the tree lighting ceremony. His white shirt is stained with bright red spots - blood. Her daughter’s blood. So are his hands.

They could have stayed there for minutes or hours, or days. Neither is sure how long they sit in that waiting room. Neither cares. 

At long last a doctor appears through the doors and calls for them - the family of Felicity Smoak.

Oliver can’t take his eyes away from the dark red splotches covering the doctor’s scrubs. That’s never a good sign. Donna must have noticed too, because her grip on his hand becomes painful. He pulls her closer.

He feels like his knees would give out, and he has to hold onto Donna because hers do, at the news that despite the damage to her internal organs, despite the fact that she no longer has a spleen, Felicity would be alright. Given time. It had been touch and go for a moment there, but she pulled through. 

She’s stable, but in a very delicate condition in the ICU and they’re not allowed to see her at this time. Oliver wants to throw a fit, but Donna’s squeeze on his arm stops him. There’s nothing he can do for Felicity right now, but he can be there for Donna. 

It  takes the joint effort of John and Quentin to make Oliver go home. If Oliver notices how close Donna and Quentin seem he doesn’t comment on it. He also doesn’t comment when Donna says she’ll spend the night at Quentin’s because she can’t bear to go back to the loft. 

Lance waits for her downstairs in the car, as Donna goes to the loft with Oliver so that she could pack a bag. 

She’s unaware of what she’s actually putting inside the small suitcase. Her arms are moving on autopilot, her movements are robotic.

When she comes downstairs she finds Oliver still in the dark living room. His blood-stained clothes still on, his posture stiff, and his eyes fixated on the Hannukiah on the windowsill.

It’s only then that she remembers that it’s still a holiday today - that for all the people who hadn’t nearly lost their daughter or fiancée today is just a regular day.It’s an oddly bizzare realisation to have.

She goes to the kitchen and retrieves some candles from the cabinet where she knows Felicity keeps them and goes to Oliver.

She taps him on the shoulder and wordlessly gives him the candles. 

“Go on, light them.” she tells him. 

“I’m not Jewish,” Oliver counters quietly, so quietly she barely hears him.

“You’re family. I’ll say the blessing, you just light the candles.” Donna offers.

He looks at her for the moment and she doesn’t need to hear him, to understand what he wants to say.

_what’s the point? She’s not here_

_“_ On Hannukah, we fight the darkness with light. Hopefully some of that light will help and guide our girl back to us.” Donna tells him.

He lights the candles and she says the blessings and he thinks that there has probably never been a more somber celebration of Hannukah.

Once that is done, Donna hugs him tightly and Oliver revels in the comfort that her hug brings him. A mother’s hug. It’s been forever since he’s had those. 

His arms tighten around her torso on instinct. He knew he could never have his mother back, but Donna Smoak was as close as he was ever going to get.

She rose on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. 

“I’m just a phone call away if you need me. I’m sorry that I can’t stay here tonight with you, but it’s just… too much.” She apologizes into his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Oliver soothes her. “Go, get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They both know she won’t. They both know he won’t either.

Donna leaves shortly after that and he can hear Lance’s car drive away. At least Donna will be safe with Lance for the night. 

He stays rooted in place staring at the only source of light in the room. He looks at the candles and hopes that Donna’s words would prove correct, that the light they’ve kindled would be a comfort to Felicity in her dark time.

With that he turns around, grabs his keys and leaves.

He can’t stay in the apartment without her either. In their home. In their bed. He can’t. Not without her. 

He can’t go to his campaign office either, since that is where all their trouble began. Where Darhk kidnapped her. The foundry is a no go as well - she’s an integral part of it - her equipment and station, the design… He can’t be there without being reminded of her.

So he goes to the only person who can help him feel the tiniest amount of peace right now - John Diggle.


End file.
